sight (a short story)

"You know, someday you're going to hurt yourself doing that." the man said, sitting in his armchair and resting his elbows condescendingly.

"Oh hush." the woman replied. She groped for the tap and turned on the faucet, running the water over the knife's edge until all the blood was gone. "You always talk about it like I've done something so terrible. You know that they'll grow back. Besides" she put the knife on the counter, as clean as it was when it was new and unused. "it was about time for a change anyway." She felt her way from the kitchen to the lounge, where he sat, finding the armchair across from his and sinking into it.

"Yes, I suppose it was. You were complaining too much as it was."

"Complaining! You would complain, if everything all looked the same." She said. "All blue. blue houses, blue skies, blue streets, blue cars, blue people. Always twilight. God, it was unspeakably terrible."

"I remember you rather liked it at first."

"Of course. New is always likable." She twiddled her thumbs. 'But new doesn't last, does it?'

He sighed and took his pipe out of a box on the table. If she knew he was staring at her, he would look away, but situation as it was, he stared unabatedly. Her eyes were still two empty sockets, miniature pitfalls of black tendon and bone, but already tiny pink veins were branching from the depths towards the light, hundreds of fingers extending. Blood, which had been a deluge only minutes before, was now trickling contentedly down her cheeks.

"And what, do you think, you will see this time?"

Despite her hollowed visage, the woman still managed to look hopeful, almost excited, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, I can't say for sure. Maybe it will be a color again. Or a shade. That happens often."

"Red?" He suggested, his eyes lingering on her cheeks.

"I hope not!" She exclaimed. "I have had red once before. The whole world was bleeding;" she self-consciously wiped a small pool from the furrow of her chin. "I would never recover from nightmares. Or I would always think I was ill. Perhaps it will be like when everything was square. Or when everything was glowing with some heavenly light. Or when everything was made of separate little things that all looked the same-"

"Fractals."

"Yes! Fractals. I liked that. A jacket made of thousands of jackets, and all of them made of thousands of jackets. It really made everything fascinating." She wiped her hands, still wet from washing the knife.
Now a tiny, clear membrane was starting to creep like a cloud from under her eyelid.
He puffed on his pipe and crossed his right leg over his left knee. "I still believe it is irresponsible. You can't turn around and cut out your eyes when you don't like what you see." A pile of smoke issued from his mouth. "Would you cut off your tongue if you didn't like the way that things taste?"

"Of course not! That's ridiculous. It's much more than that." she collapsed her thumbs and clenched her fingers together. "I'm sure that you wouldn't understand it if I explained it to you. Though I wish they would hurry up and grow."

"And," he said, smirking a grin she couldn't see. "What will you do if you see things in black? If black covered everything?"

"Black?" She froze, even her eyes paused their slow progression into spheres. "I don't know. Well...I think it would be awful. Absolutely; I would rather go blind than see everything in black."

There was something missing in the smoke-filled air at that moment, a triumphant laugh or some sort of decree of truth, or a sigh of revelation, awe, acceptance, anything...but there was only stillness, broken by the slight shuffling whisper of two eyes recreating themselves into existence. In the kitchen, the knife sat, wet on the counter, silver as if it had never stirred. The man sat and smoked, the woman sat and waited, her mouth open just the slightest, perched on the edge of the sentence she was meaning to say but didn't know the words to. then-

"Aah," she said. He put down his pipe.

"Aah."

"Well?" he asked.

"It's the most beautiful. It's the most beautiful world I've ever seen." she replied softly, her eyes staring up to the ceiling-or perhaps, beyond it. "Yes. The most beautiful, the most wonderful. The most true..."

And the woman sat and stared around her with wide newborn eyes, and the man watched her, smoking his pipe, and in the kitchen, the knife gleamed in the dim twilight.

anticipation

YEAH LET'S TALK ABOUT HOW GREAT THIS IS GOING TO BE.

No, seriously. If you've never picked up Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials series (The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, and The amber Spyglass), well, I'm probably not the first person to tell you to do so. It's gushworty. And the first of the three films is coming out December 7th:


Awesome score+breathtaking production design+Daniel Craig+Nicole Kidman+talking animals+the voice of Ian Mckellan+the voice of Freddie Highmore+Eva Green+Sam Elliot+polar bears+airships+Gyptians+witches=Ten billion types of YES

And here's a sweet featurette about Daemons with lots of fantastic footage:




go obsess about it for a while. It's a good thing to do.

espresso grief; early morning intellectualism; webcomics reccommendations

Whenever I go to Starbucks in the mornings (this happens at least once a week) and order an added shot of espresso, the nice barista lady thinks I'm suicidal.
"I'll have a tall soy sugar-free hazelnut latte with two shots" (don't judge me, it tastes good)
"Tall has two shots."
"I know, I'd like two added shots."
"that's four shots...."
"I know."
"FOUR SHOTS?!"

You's think that espresso was made of herion, or perhaps bullets. Shoot me four times.

Also, I think that the general intellectuality level of us NIZA girls (read: Myself, Manda, and Shmaletheia) is starting to bite us in the bum. We have a horrible tendency for having long, thoughtful discussions about art, life, sexism, film, culture, literature, et cetera at two a.m. on a Sunday night, when we need to wake up at eight or nine the next morning. And it really seems like we can't help ourselves; we're addicted to being smart.

Last night's personal revelation question: Is it possible to begin an artistic movement without believing that your movement is the be-all end-all of art, and knowing that in a short time another movement will supplant your ideas, or at least expand on them in ways that you wouldn't? Is it worth it to create when you are simply acting as a link in the chain of creation? I think there is, but it's a tough truth to swallow.

I'll finish today with a list that I've been meaning to make for a while: Webcomic Recs!! If you know me, you know that i'm a partially closeted fan of comic books and graphic novels, so it should come as no surprise that i show more than a passing interest in the web- type comics. Here's a short list of the one's I like:

A Softer World: Sure, sometimes the indier-than-thou sentimentality can get kind of grating. And this is more of a one-two nudge than a one-two punch as far as jokes go. But it's often well-written, the three panel format works every time, and even the most ridiculous strips can still make you smirk a bit.


nataliedee.com
Married To The Sea/Toothpaste For Dinner/Natalie Dee: Ohio's premiere married strange people of Drew and Natalie are scattered in various places all over the internet; from Myspace to Youtube to these comics, which also include blogs and a fourth non-regular comic by Drew, Where Are The Dogs Humping. True, Married to the Sea has been lacking ever since it changed its format from /victorian-style etchings to 1970s-style advertisements, but it's still damn funny most of the time. All three have a great sense of irreverent humor, mocking almost everything that the internet-savvy 16-24 year-olds would want to see mocked. And sometimes it's just weird.


Questionable Content: This one is a bit of a guilty pleasure for me. A serialized webcomic that's evolved into one of the best-drawn ones on the web. A bit silly at times, but you can't help but get sucked in. Pretty entertaining stuff!


The Adventures of Dr Mcninja: He's a ninja who is also a doctor, who is also Irish! Yeah, I have no excuse.


Dinosaur Comics: Consistently fantastic. Also, you should know my love of all things dinosaur. Also an intriguing format; using the same six frames per comic with different text (and sometimes thought balloons, moustaches, beach balls, and a floating Batman head). And you can spend hours hitting the random comic link at the top of the page. HOURS.


Animals Have Problems Too: Probably the most irreverent and satisfying comic of the bunch, with more lols than you can imagine. Each comic is a solid hit, brief but awesome. Make sure to check out all the scrollover comments; they make it twice as good. Currently my absolute favorite webcomic.


A Lesson is Learned But the Damage is Irreversible: Thought I'd just throw this one in there. It's not a currently updating webcomic, given that the creators are on an unexplained hiatus; but if you have an extra half hour one day, go look at what's up there. It's almost completely abstract and nonlinear, but the writing is still poignant in an unexplainable way, and the art is fascinating. There aren't a lot of comics up there, so it'll be a quick read. I promise it's worth it.

This Halloween, I'm gonna dress up as a slutty sailor cop....bunny.

Halloween has always been a pretty fantastic holiday, and like most fantastic holidays, it is ruined by people between the ages of 16 and 22. It's amusing that most "costumes" aren't really costumes at all, just odd outfits and color combinations.

So, since Halloween falls on a Wednesday (booo) this year, festivities are mostly taking place this weekend, which is why I write to you from under a very loud, bass-heaving party. No doubt they are having a seance! And resurrecting the spirits of all the people who have died in mosh pits. Let us never forget them.

Our Pre-Halloween (Pralloween?) weekend has been a rather enjoyable one. Last night, we went to FUSE, a weekly party hosted at the Vancouver Art Gallery. There was art, dance, and drink, all of which I enjoyed greatly and would very much like to experience again. The centerpiece of the evening was a performance art........performance that was two women sitting at a tabe set for a great and decadent feast that consisted of cakes and tortes, while the audience member's mouths watered over the various marzipan-colored delicacies that were spread across the banquet table. The performance itself had lasted for twelve hours, and throughout the evening the table was wrapped in cellophane until every inch of it, cake and all, was covered. Then, at the end of the evening, the artist unwrapped the table and walked away, leaving us to eat what was left of the cakes and such. There was a lot. Deciding to keep with the performative aspect of it all, we ate some cake and shoved the rest in each other's faces:







Ugh, we are all so cute. (the ladies in the pic-a-tures are Aletheia and Manda, and they are the greatest)

So then tonight was the Parade of Lost Souls, which had some entertaining aspects....but to tell you the truth, I had more fun at FUSE. There's something about the Vancouver community events or art scene events that sometimes leaves a bit more to be desired, at least in my opinion. Still, there was lots to enjoy...an interesting performance on a fire escape, dancing on stilts, dancing with fire, and lots of musicians and groups everywhere playing music. I wish we had been there to see the parade, as it was, we showed up an hour late. Oh well. Hopefully we can get a complete taste of it next year.

One last picture; the facepaint that I did this evening for the festivities:




It was supposed to look like a mask of leaves, but now I think I just looked like an owl. Huh. A girl on the bus told me that I should say I'm "Autumn".

"What are you going as this Halloween?" "Oh, I dunno. An abstract seasonal concept, maybe." "nice."

Come on, little buck, you can do it

Today's exchange rate is a depressing 1.00::0.962, in favor of Canada (of course).

I'm not trying to turn this into a political or economics blog, because I'm just not capable of that sort of thing. But I did learn today that the increase in Canadian prices is due to there being a distributory "middleman". The idea is (in typical Canada-wants-recognition style) that every U.S. company has to have a specific Canadian "branch" that imports most of the products but spends extra on the packaging and distributing, so that the product can then be written in poorly translated Franglais (ex: Ketchup="Ketchup") and be covered in maple leafs. This additional packaging jacks the price up. Add on the provincial and government taxes, and you can see why we're in such a fix over here. Now that the dollar is in surplus, you would think the problem would be solved (or less bad), but such is not the case. Also, Canada's biggest trade partner of exports is the U.S., and now the states aren't really as interested in buying Canadian. So, like before, nobody wins, and we're getting shafted all the more.

Mix Tape!

Every now and again I like to put these together, driven by fancy of curiosity or that cumpulsion of "I wish I could hear these 10-14 songs all together instead of skipping around on my iTunes, that would be the best. The best!". This is the first time I've done it on Blogger, but there are a couple over on Myspace. On that note, have you ever noticed that by one's mere existence on Myspace, they automatically think that you will want to listen to whatever crappy band takes an interest? Call me loopy, but I don't think that's the case with most people; even though it's nice to get the "THANKS FOR ADDING OUR CRAPPY BAND WE LOVE THE SUPPORT YOU ARE THE GREATEST" comments afterwards, because it gives you the impression that the fame of such a band relies on a single person who they've never met.

Moving on to the tape. Actually, it's a bunch of mp3s.

The theme here is loneliness. Not outright despondent "my lover has left me for another and i'm so far behind on my electric bill it's not even funny, but i'll sit in the dark and cry anyway" loneliness, but that sort of growing loneliness that wraps around you like a warm blanket. It's comforting and painful at the same time. At times like this, all you want to do is wallow in your lonely adriftness, and this is the soundtrack for you. The download (if you choose to download it) won't list the tracks in the order i want them to be on the list, so here's how I have them:




As is the best way to do it, here's a short lyric from each of the non-instrumental pieces to help explain how they got there:

"River": I wish I had a river I could skate away on (duh)
"Disappear": I don't think we're meant to stay here very long//I don't dream of bringing heaven down//not like this, I'd rather move on
"I Wish I Was The Moon": God bless me I'm a free man with no place free to go//I'm parylized and collar-tight//no pills for what I fear
"Listening to Otis Redding At Home During Christmastime":Home is where beds are made and butter is added to toast//On a cold afternoon you can float room to room like a ghost//Take the creche out and argue about who gets to set up the kings//And I know that it's hom because that's where the stereo sings "I've got dreams to remember"

"There is a Light that Never Goes Out": Driving in your car//oh I never never want to go home//because I haven't got one anymore
"Hallelujah":Even though it all went wrong//I'll stand before the Lord of Song//With nothing on my tongue but "hallelujah"
"Fox In The Snow":Girl in the snow, where do you go//to find someone who will do//to tell someone all the truth before it kills you//and listen to your crazy laugh before you hang a right and disappear from sight
"The District Sleeps Alone Tonight":The district sleeps alone tonight after the bars turn out their lights//and send the autos swerving into the loneliest evening//and I am finally seeing why I was the one worth leaving

"Onliest":Sweetness of the salty wind//Depth of love when it just begins//A pint for me and one for you//Say a toast with all who knew
"The Absence of God"I say there's trouble when everything is fine//the need to destroy things creeps up on me every time
"You're Gonna Make Me Lonesome" Purple clover, Queen Anne lace//crimson hair across your face//you could make me cry if you don't know

As you noticed, the songs are split into three categories, that are loosely linked thematically. Most of the correlation is in the style of music. The first section is folk or country-esque songs, as they are reprisented by "Dora Mae's Funeral". The next section is more poppy, and melancholy; dealing more with personal relationships. The last three are more up-tempo and brighter. The melancholy mood ends after "Onliest", and the last two songs are still lonely but a little happier to listen to. And I thought that Peyroux's lovely cover of "You're Gonna Make Me Lonesone" was a perfect cap on such a sweet little set of songs.

So feel free to download, wallow, and enjoy. You can find the file here.

Good news to start the week

$1 US=$0.981 CAD

This is pretty great.

If you've been paying attention to the world currency news lately (and why wouldn't you be?)you know that Canada has been celebrating it's unprecedented gain over the US dollar. As of some point last week when I checked (technical term: S.P.L.W.W.I.C.), it was at a disturbing $1 US=$.94 CAD, which is about the opposite of what it was last year. The mere fact of the US dollar being worth more than 90 cents Candian was tough enough for us expatriots, who have become comfortable with our parent's money being worth more in this country, thereby making us between 15% and 5% richer. However, Canadian trade being the complete fucking pointless mess that it is (technical term: C.F.P.M.), this feeling of added wealth was combated by the fact that goods in Canada (books, macaronia and cheese, clothes, soda pop, gold, silver, frozen concentrated orange juice, et cetera) often cost between 20% and 50% more than their US cost; plus an added 7% to 12% sales tax. If we can do simple math (yeah, right, this is an arts blog), that means that under last year's exchange rate, we Damn Yankee Expatriots (DYEPs) were actually paying 12%-57% more for these goods. To this, we would give a heartfelt and postmodernist "bull-shiiiiiiiiiit!".

Therefore, the benefit of the Canadian loonie gaining on the American buck should have been that Canadian companies would lower their prices to something other than the 1970s exchange rate (for proof of this, look on the back cover of any book that you have with you. Go on, look! See? $24.95 US, or $98.35 CAD). Did they? Nope nope. With this new gain on the dollar, Canadian's are still paying 27%-62% more than Americans are, and, as of last week, DYEPs were paying 33%-68% more. Is this fair? Nope. Is it logical? No. Does this post have a point other than ranting? I dunno, you're the one who's actually read this far (unless you were just skimming over the page and landed on this sentence, in which case, no cheating, go back to the top). I suppose that what I'm trying to point out is that our recently lost gain over the loonie wasn't much of a gain anyway, it was more of a slight discount. It's like in Florida when everyone goes crazy about the back to school tax-free week and buys billions of dollars worth of clothes (trust me, I worked Target that week, I've been on the front lines of that mess). Sure, you're saving money, but Florida tax is only 6.5%. If something was discounted 6.5%, no one would call that a steal, let alone line up before the store opens and pack three shopping carts to the brim with petite uniforms, khakis, and jumpers--it's all in the way that you look at it. The same goes for this Canadian gain over the dollar. Sure it's a bit of a boost to save 6% in the States (though one should remeber that, in Vancouver, Canadians do their shopping in Washington, where sales tax is about 8%, so it's only a 4% gain), but it doesn't do anything to help the Canadian dollars that are being spent in stores by the average-joe Canadian or DYEP.

Oh wait, I forgot that this was supposed to be good news. Well, it is. If the buck is coming back up, then the difference in Canadian prices might start to seem a little mnore resonable (meaning that they'll be back to their previous aforementioned unreasonability (unreasonness? Disreason?)) than they are now, as we can go back to bragging about how much richer and cooler we are than Canada, even though when you look at it we're not, and we don't have their health care and social support, blah blah blah, they still pay a ridiculous amount of taxes, so there.

And speaking of taxes: Oregon is voting to levy a tax on cigarettes that will go to benefit education. So we don't want people, especially kids, to smoke, but are more than happy to let them smoke so long as they give money to education in doing so, Hypocritical? Maybe just a little bit.

Random self-bragging: here are my current grades for the semester:

Shakespeare: A
Metaphor: B+
Grammar: A
Postmodernism: B+
Woolf: B+

Not a lot to brag about, unless you consider that two of those B+s are in 400+ level classes, one of which (Postmodernism) is a tough cookie to crack. Egg to crack. Yip yip yip yip yip uh huuuh uh huuh uh huuh.

Photoshop will someday be used to prove people right in cases of "A looks like B!"

For example:
This afternoon, while resting from a hard day's presenting on Mrs Dalloway and eating sushi, my roommates and I were discussing one of our favorite subjects: the approaching trip to England. At some point in the conversation, I mentioned that I thought the United Kingdom looked like a Little Old Man. Apparently, I'm on crack, because no one else sees that. Well, for the visually impaired, I offer this irrefutable evidence:

HA! Take that, non-believers! The United Kingdom is a little old man, a dwarvish or leprachaunish old man, and Scotland is the head, England is the body, and Wales is the hand. I guess Ireland is either his pot o'gold or a rock. It's so cute! But how can you deny that? YOU CAN'T. I feel incredibly smart. Now I have to go to class.

I just wanted some coffee....gosh, what were YOU thinking?

Yeah, I made it myself, after Amanda and I almost died of the giggles in Metaphor class.

Name's Meg, Purveyor Of Short Films

Here's the latest installment of Arts Deux Films's expanding repetoire: "The Blank Paper". From this, and from "Teddy Bear", I'm starting to outline a project of sorts: to make thirteen short stop-motion films, in black and white, each one corresponding to a movement from Schumann's Kinderszenen. Already, I've used numbers one and five for these last two films. Eleven to go! Each piece is between thirty seconds and three minutes, so it's not too much to have to do. We'll see how that goes.

To get away from that, here are some selectedly wonderful poems by my favorite poet (guess who):

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

*

o by the by
has anybody seen
little you-i
who stood on a green
hill and threw
his wish at blue

with a swoop and a dart
out flew his wish
(it dived like a fish
but it climbed like a dream)
throbbing like a heart
singing like a flame

blue took it my
far beyond far
and high beyond high
bluer took it your
but bluest took it our
away beyond where

what wonderful thing
is the end of a string
(murmers little you-i
as the hill becomes nil)
and will somebody tell
me why people let go

*

"o purple finch
please tell me why
this summer world (and you who i who
love to live)
must die"

"if i
should tell you anything"
(that eagerly sweet carolling
self answers me)
"i could not sing"

*

if everything happens that can't be done
(and anything's righter
than books
could plan)
the stupidest teacher will almost guess
(with a run
skip
around we go yes)
there's nothing as something as one

one hasn't a why or because or although
(and buds know better
than books
don't grow)
one's anything old being everything new
(with a what
which
around we come who)
one's everyanything so

so world is a leaf so a tree is a bough
(and birds sing sweeter
than books
tell how)
so here is away and so your is a my
(with a down
up
around again fly)
forever was never till now

now i love you and you love me
(and books are shuter
than books
can be)
and deep in the high that does nothing but fall
(with a shout
each
around we go all)
there's somebody calling who's we

we're anything brighter than even the sun
(we're everything greater
than books
might mean)
we're everyanything more than believe
(with a spin
leap
alive we're alive)
we're wonderful one times one

*

I'm in Aletheia's room while she's painting a sky on a clock and we're listening to Joanna Newsom and it's really quite lovely.

Film experiment number two!

Honestly, I should be working on my presentation that's due Monday (Blade Runner and Metropolis: Postmodernism vs. German Expressionism/Modernism (note: German Expressionism always wins)), but since I'm in Portland for the weekend, I really can't help myself. The film took about four or five hours to get together (that means photograph, edit, re-edit, score, add titles, et cetera), which is pretty nifty. Though I did learn something disturbing: iMovie '08 is not as great as it claims to be. Unlike the '06 version, it has absolutely no video editing effects (except for being able to change the color/saturation of the film). That means no speeding up, no grainy effects, no cool little gimmicky things. So I had to re-download iMovie '06, film and compile all the pictures in '08, export that as a .mpeg, re-open it in '06, speed up the animated part of the film, export it as a second .mpeg, open that in '08, and add the titles. Still, though, I shouldn't complain, the result is pretty good, and better than if I tried to use any other non-professional editing software. Even so, my neck hurts like a bitch (I never understood that expression completely) from hunkering over the keyboard.

In completely unrelated news, today my Disney World maps came in the mail and I got to play with a kitten named Kiwi. Yes and double yes.

Un Petit Film

I put together a video in about two hours today, using experimental techniques and such. Stop-motion, two minutes. Here it is:



I think it's fun, though my technique is still a bit sloppy (what can I say, though? I did it completely by myself!)

International relations, grumble.

So there's this resolution going through the house that labels the mass killings of Armenians in Turkey during the first World War as genocide, and the White House says that's a bad thing.

Why? Because Turkey is a "key ally" in the war on terror. Because most shipments of oil from the Middle East to the U.S. pass through Turkey. And admitting that their country commited genocide would make them upset, and that would be mean.

Pardon the colloquialism, but what the hell? Is a country only guilty if they aren't useful? Is it really a lesser evil to omit something so heinous in order to continue with a war that is, to a great amount of people, wrong? How can we deal with modern acts of genocide, like Darfur, if we act as though the definition of genocide itself is fuzzy? Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh.

This is just one of those weak-minded things that makes the administration so intolerable to watch or listen to. There are some things that are still in conflict, that are partisan, that you can choose to support for the sake of your administration (see: marriage, abortion, progressive Western thought), and no matter what the opinion is, I'm fine with that. But genocide is pretty straightforward. And if we can't admit that something so definite and so terrible happened 90 years ago, then we don't have the right to define anything of the sort that happens now. And that isn't just risking the war on terror or the Bush administration--it's risking our humanity.



Oh crap I'm late for work.

On a cold afternoon you can float room to room like a ghost

I've decided that this bloggidy update needs to be daily, if not bidaily (that is a word now), if not semiweeky, if not weekly. In short, regularly. It will be my place for analysis and insight into the literature that I am both reading and writing (if you can call that literature--har har), as well as notes upon what's going on in the world around me, interesting things on the internet, and parenthetical notes (I doubt that will get annoying whatsoever). So here goes.

I think it would be best to start out with the classes that I'm taking now.

Shakespeare and the Renaisseance: a fun and engaging class. The prof, Patricia Badir, is one of those who constantly talks about how much she loves the readings, and we spend a good amount of time watching film adaptations of plays we are reading. So far we've gone over two gems, Hamlet and Twelfth Night. Of the two, I would much rather discuss Twelfth Night, because it's more fun than Hamlet. The play itself is madcap, and Dr Badir brought up an interesting point about it's conception: that everyone involed plays some sort of language game, with the exception of Malvolio, who is the only person who ends up getting really shafted at the end (if you haven't read the play, I won't go into detail about it, but it's a really horrible thing they do to him). This accounts for all the witty banter that goes on between the most interesting characters: Olivia, Viola, and Feste. The fact that Olivia ends up marrying Sebastian at the end despite that she really fell in love with Viola always made me sad, as well as Viola marrying Orsino, who is an idiot and doesn't deserve her (basically). However, it's one of the best comedies, and one of the most bizzare, so I deeply recommend it to anyone with eyes. Next on the reading list: Henry V. It's a bit silly and hard to believe so far, but Henry's speeches are good, so pfah.

Postmodernism: dear lord. This course is interesting, but frustrating. I love some aspects of Postmodernism, and I think that my own writing style falls somewhere betweem Postmoernism and Modernism, but the prof's (Paul Endo) choice of literature is a bit bothersome. Too much of it seems to focus on the "sensory overload/modernism sucks/no resolution/artistic deconstruction" side of the movement, instead of that which actually changed the way that we look at narrative and expression. Also, I had to read Baudrillard and several other criticisms of Postmodernism. It's an odd movement, really. There was really nothing wrong with Modernism, but Postmodernism seems to be an idea sprung out of irritation instead of revolution; that it didn't really follow Modernism but ran beside it, like a kid who claims to hate his parents and become an anarchist but still relies on them for most of his or her well being. Sad, really. So far, along with the philosophy, we read A Wild Sheep Chase by Haruki Murakami. I didn't like it that much, the narrator just spent most of his time talking about how bored he was, and when he finally found something transcendant or deep, he would shrug and walk away from it. Next on the reading list: Blade Runner. The movie, not the book. Yeah.

Virginia Woolf: Mixed feelings. I love Woolf in all senses of the word, but the class focuses on war and feminism, paying hardly any attention to other aspects of Woolf's writing. Bummer. I could go on forever about what we've read so far (Mrs Dalloway, To The Lighthouse, A Room of One's Own), so I might skip it for now. I'm getting kind of sick of this list, anyway...

Metaphor and Thought: one of the profs talks like a Polish Grover, one is very cute and browsome (adj: a degree of handomeness that extends from one's forehead; having a dramatic brow). The mappings we use are interesting and fun to do sometimes, and the material is interesting, though one of the classrooms we have has poor acoustics and tends to make me sleepy. Still, a good class to take, I'm glad to be in it.

Grammar: So. Much. Fun. We get to figure out clauses and subjects and predicators, and make trees and use formulas and learn about the differences in language between areas of Engish-speaking countries. Also, it is easy to skip and still be caught up; and most of the classes involve "investigating" what words mean. Word detectives!

So there's that. I don't have much else going on now besides school. Well, work. That's not too much to crow about, except that it's divinely easy and I have to wait more than two weeks between paychecks (example: I got paid last Friday, my next check is on the 23rd). It's getting colder fast this year, and September seemed to be more like October, and now October feels like November. I hate not being able to read leisurely at all. I did finish The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon. Fantastic read. At least I can watch films still; I just got The Iron Giant on DVD and watched Raiders of the Lost Ark as well as some of Aletheia's Avant Garde films recently. All quite wonderful. I'm sure I'll have something truly substantial from them to blog about soon.

Wow it's been a while

Like, almost a full month. I think that I need to put more things up here; and I would have better pictures and stuff if I had my camera cord or if my scanner worked. All I have is a few pictures that I took with my webcam of a few drawing that I've done, but I don't feel like burdening blogger with such mishmash.

I do have a sonnet that I put together last night, quite suddenly:

cherubin

there is a boy that sits high on a cloud,
who gathers the pieces and throws them all down.
and when they are landed and scattered in sand,
he picks them back up and he does it again.
sometimes he lives neath the lid of your eye,
collecting the colors and letting them fly.
he tears up the shapes and he makes them anew,
taking words than seem nonsense and turning them true.
and where will he go when he is gone from your sight,
when he has shaken your days and splintered your nights?
he will back to his cloud with his quiver and bow
and sighs will mark all of the hearts he has known.

And, just for fun, an abstract that I wrote during Grammar class a couple weeks ago:

her gives he flowers
gold bluebauble wrapped,
him to she kiss returns
fullandfine, two intact.
and morning and evening
and finding and being
so somehow seeing delight,
he feels roundabout her eyes
and sleeps him into night.

(sonnetloves best expression is never
than the fair and free, her and he,
being and billowing kites without tethers)

Then there are a couple seasonal sketches that I worked out some time in September:

summer

run kite new
your
sky to blue

stand dawn till sun
be comes

goodson

wheatfields on homewalk way
blue as june, free as frayed


winter

play softly flow your dreams and snow,
dear children in days short you go.
echo trees like spines of eyes,
the blackbird brings eternal night.

so shiver through the nameless days
and beg to keep your boots away
till frost becomes a river slow,
dear children, in days short you go.



autumn

winds! breeze!
beckon leaves

in whirlwinds at your feet.
shiver nightly but smile brightly
in fields of pumpkin poppyseeds

and rake around your life so far
remember moments where you are
neath sunset leaves and bristling clouds

oh how!
we do love seasonal shapeshifting,
ghost stories and schoolbooks,
far below spinning tree-feathering leaves


spring

do not stay insidethehouse

tis too cool
too dew-strewn

moth-covered and snowless
buzzing and bristling with redcaps and chirps
raining and drizzling the blooms from the earth

you'll roll in the springtime
your trousers will green
and the deadness of winter
will be less than a dream

There, that's what I have for now creative-writing-wise. Anything that I'm working on with Archer will have to wait, since I'm really busy right now and most of that stuff isn't complete at all anyway.

I should start updating often. If only I knew how to do a cut...